Ok guys and gals, I’ve been bored and decided to do something to rectify that with a story that I’ve been trying to put together for a while now. I’ve been wanting to throw my own ghostbusters story into the mix and see what people may think of it so please give it a chance and tell me what you think so far. It isn’t much, just a quick first chapter to set up the story to come. I’m going to post up another chapter in a day or two.
It tells the story of a new branch opening in Boston and they get their first big case to deal with, starting off with the arrival of a strange statue to the cities children’s museum while the ghostbusters are across town dealing with some everyday spooks and some very strange occurences.
CHAPTER 1
The sun is shining on another miserably hot day in the city of Boston, traffic already coming to a stand still as the commuters try and get to work. Outside the children’s museum a fleet of trucks are delivering crates of all shapes and sizes, all stamped with the word Fragile in red. The museum president Mr. White is overseeing the arrival of his new exhibit and making sure all is correctly handled. White is barking orders to all the workers trying to get everything inside and out of the humidity “Come on, be careful with those they’re antiques!”.
They get the last crates inside and ready to be cleaned and sorted.
That however is when Mr. White notices a crate standing by the side of the building, he checks his list and sees that everything was checked in and accounted for. Curiously he places his list down and picks up a crow bar as he walks over toward the mysterious crate. The struggles to try and pry the top off, it doesn’t budge, putting all he’s got into it the nails still aren’t showing any signs of moving then a ruffling is heard from inside the box. White stops and listens but hears nothing, he tries to pry the top off again but then the boards on the side snap open. He moves the boards and finds a small statue of a beautiful woman inside, he pulls it out to get a better look at it. Brushing off some left over packing material he notices that her the statue has no eyes, just black holes.
Boom! A thunderous crackle rips through the city, White jumps from surprise and looks up in the sky as thick dark clouds roll in from seemingly no where covering the Boston skyline, Boom! Another thunderous strike then another, rain begins to pour down. White runs back to the building and places the statue on top of a crate then hurries back to close the doors, the statues empty eye holes begin to glow an eerie yellow. As White reaches for the door jams the doors slam shut hitting him in the head and knocking him to the ground unconscious, the glow in the statues eye’s fade away with a distant sound of a woman’s cries.
The rain continues to come down hard, across the city at a playground on the north end an old man in a beaten poncho is watching the waves as they get more violent throwing boats all over the water. Behind him footsteps are heard as two cloaked figures walk up from behind him, the man doesn’t pay attention to them and keeps his attention on the sea. The two men stop behind him and begin to whisper to each other, only thing to be made out of the whispers is a mans voice “I got this.” A gloved hand reaches up is lain on the old man on the shoulder, “Excuse me sir, but we’re gonna have to ask you to come with us.” The old man grabs the hand from his shoulder, his hand is covered in barnacles and rotten flesh, and he throws it off of him. The two figures pull off their hoods to reveal themselves, they are both men in their mid 20s one is brushing off the rotten flesh from his hand his name is Timothy Ross and the other man is Philip West. Ross warns the old man once more “Sir this can be easy or very easy, which will it be?”
The old man turns around to face them, his face has more barnacles and rotten flesh dripping off, the old man groans a hollow “leave.” under his breathe. West pushes his hair back as he brushes off the old man’s order, “Sorry” he says with a smirk “But that just isn’t the answer we we’re looking for”.
The Old man growls and then disappears with the wind, The two men look at each other than push open their raincoats, underneath hanging from their belts are a set of para-goggles a trap and their neutrona wands. They pull out the para-goggles and put them on, with a flicker of life they see the Old man’s signature clear as day hovering toward the Ecto-1, they take hold of the wands and point them at the old man. “Don’t move another inch old man!” barks Ross, the old man looks back smiling as he passes over the top of the ecto unaware of his current predicament. Inside the car a computer screen lights up and on the screen it says “p.k.e. signature detected, super slammer activated” and then on top a container opens and out shoots a cone of pulsing energy surrounding the old man and pulling him down into the slammer and closing shut behind him.
The two look at each other and shrug their shoulders placing their wands back onto their belts and pushing the goggles up over their eyes. “Was that easy?” jokes West “Or very easy?”.
“Actually I’m not entirely sure” Ross says as they start to walk back to the Ecto-1. The ecto-1 is a heavily modified econoline ambulance van, A radio in the van is heard beeping, as they open the back doors to put their proton packs back, the interior is like a complete mobile laboratory filled with different computers and gadgets. A voice over the radio is heard, it’s Simon Frost back at headquarters “Hey guys that one give you any trouble?”.
As West helps Ross take off his pack he remarks “No actually he came pretty much on his own accord.”
“Oh, well that’s good, don’t need another Duck boat incident now do we?”
Ross gets a little agitated “Hey it wasn’t one of us who blew a hole in the side of that tour boat.”
“I was just saying, you know what never mind look just watch yourselves out there, news said the storms gonna get worse.”
“It can get worse than this?” jokes West as he closes the back doors. A rumbling is heard in the distance as the ground beneath them starts to shake, they both look behind them to see a wave 20 feet high cascading towards them, “Oh shit” West whispers to himself terrified. They clench up just before it hits them but it passes straight past them and down through the city streets and beneath the rumbling screams of terror are echoing with the wave. West opens his eye cautiously and looks around, Ross takes out his p.k.e. meter and takes a scan of the area. “What the hell was that?” West asks as he looks around for some sort of sign of the wave.
“I’m not sure.” Ross answers
West looks around and smells a strange odor in the air. “Is that molasses I smell?”
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“Molasses!”
“Yeah I smell molasses, so what?”
Ross points at a plaque next to the ecto “This is what.” The plaque reads “Boston Molasses Flood”, Ross then shows him the readings from the p.k.e. scan, they’re off the meter.
To be continued…